


All-Destroying

by BarbaraKaterina



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, Eventual Happy Ending, Loki is not in a good place to begin with, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), no one is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-09-27 23:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20416319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbaraKaterina/pseuds/BarbaraKaterina
Summary: Loki will avenge his daughter, no matter who he has to ally with and who he has to kill.Tony...is pretty much in the same place, really.





	1. Men tread the path of Hel, and heaven is cloven.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luninarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luninarie/gifts).

> This was written as part of the FrostIron discord gift exchange, for Luninarie. She asked for a redemption story, Norse mythology elements and FrostIron fathers, so I did my best to deliver.
> 
> The setting is basically canon, with a slight change to Ragnarok: Hela wasn’t Odin’s daughter who wanted to conquer the galaxy, but rather Loki’s daughter Odin imprisoned because he was afraid of her, as per mythology. Fenris didn’t show up in Ragnarok.
> 
> There are also some changes to the IW canon. The MCD tag is for the Snap deaths, and they are a little different from canon. Different universe, different results of the coin toss.
> 
> The story title and chapter titles will be from Poetic Edda. The story title is a descriptor of Ragnarok, as is the title of the first chapter.

Loki hated them all. 

He'd been drowning in the hate ever since he'd first seen his daughter, driven insane by centuries of solitary imprisonment, break free and march on Asgard. But he had had to keep it inside through that whole ordeal, through the fight that followed, though the desperate attempt at a rescue, and now as his dying daughter was hidden in the recesses of the ship under his many spells, he was choking on it. 

But then, then Thanos came. 

Loki had been dreading him for years, but now it was a relief.

He hated them all, and they would all burn.

And so he played his part, handed over the Tesseract in the stupidest ploy in the history of the realms – and Norns, he still found room to be furious about Thor not realising this was not his normal behaviour – and then he pretended death once more and, as soon as it was safe, took Hela and used the leftover bond he still had to the Tesseract to step away through space even as Thanos was beginning to ravage the ship.

He hadn't been in that particular corner of Alfheim for centuries, but as he looked around himself, he saw it was largely unchanged. 

"Angrboda!" He called into the space where he knew their abode was hiding. 

He didn't have to wait long for them to emerge, glaring at him. 

Then they spotted Hela in his arms. 

They rushed to him, taking her and marching back to their home, allowing him to follow with a gesture. 

"What happened?" They asked. 

"She's in stasis," Loki began. "Odin died and she broke free and she – I tried to speak to her, but her mind was destroyed by the imprisonment and she was consumed by rage. She wanted to burn the realms." 

"The Ragnarok prophecy," Angrboda whispered. 

"Yes. As it is, we managed to contain it to only one realm, but… I had to call Surtur. I had to wait for Thor to be gone and for her to weaken…She's almost dead, Angrboda." 

"Odin died too easily," they growled instead of a reply, putting Hela on a bed in her house. 

Loki couldn't but agree with that. 

-

Loki spent days in that house, working alongside Angrboda in their attempt to save their daughter's life. 

They did not talk much – there was no time, nor energy left – but there was a quiet companionship between them after the first frenzy of fear passed, the intimacy of long acquaintance, the trust of knowing the other was doing their best, and that they were good at what they were doing.

And they were succeeding, Hela was nearing life with every hour, the colour returning to her cheeks, her breath becoming more steady, and just as she was showing the first signs of waking… 

She and Angrboda both turned to dust before Loki's eyes. 

And the rage and hatred in him burned anew. 

-

When it burned itself out, after only ruins were left of Angrboda's house, Loki progressed towards cold determination. 

It would have never, in his wildest imaginings, occurred to him that Thanos could actually succeed in his task, and so soon to boot. And yet, clearly, he had.

There was only one option left to him: This had to be undone. Those days of companionship with Angrboda were the most peace he had had in his life for centuries, and that hope of Hela waking and perhaps, with the help of her parents, healing, the first glimpse of light after a very long time.

He _would_ get it back. 

He was done caring for anything but his own happiness and the happiness of his children.

In fact, he began to plan immediately, but came across a seemingly insurmountable obstacle soon enough: he could not do this alone.

There were times when he would have not admitted that even on pain of death, but he had seen and lived too much since then, and he had been even willing to cooperate with Thor, in short term, to ensure some chance of his daughter’s and the universe’s survival.

If he could do that, if he could swallow his own pride and rage that much, nothing else would stand in the way.

However, the Aesir were dead.

And besides, it felt wrong, on a very deep level, to work on saving his daughter with them or with anyone from the allied realms. They were all complicit in the torture of his children. If there was any other choice – any other choice at all – then Loki was going to turn his back on the allies of Asgard and never look back.

But was there?

Who was left, that Loki knew of? What others were there, skilled enough to be of use and foolhardy enough to venture what he would attempt?

His mind went to Midgard, to a man unafraid to face him even though he was a mere mortal, and to a beast of rage that could defeat a god. 

Yes… Perhaps there was a way after all.

He remembered the star in the man’s chest, remembered its unique magical signature, and so now, in the ruins of Angrboda’s house, he settled into meditation, searching.

He knew it would take a long time. This way of searching – the only one available to him now – required him to gradually expand his consciousness of the universe, with himself as the epicentre. He had to start where he was, and progress outwards. It would be a while until he reached Midgard in this manner, but there was no helping it. He would find the Midgardian heroes, and he would force them to help him, one way or another.

He immersed himself into the calming rhythm of cosmic energies, running his senses over them and saying over and over again: not this, not this...

And then stopping in astonishment when he found what he was looking for ways away from Midgard.

Was it possible?

He had not checked on Midgard the last few years of their time, but surely they have not invented space travel by now?

And yet his magic was insistent: the source was there.

Given what had recently happened, and that the Mind Stone was on Earth...this could possibly something to do with the Mad Titan. Unless the mortal came to be where he was by his own power, he had been most likely taken there by Thanos or some of his allies, and Loki knew it was dangerous, suicidal even, to follow the energy, but he was beyond caring.

If he died, he died. At least it would be over for him, too. But if not...he _needed_ vengeance.

So with one reach of his magic, using the man’s particular energy as an anchor, he made the step.

He arrived to a relatively crude spaceship moving slowly and steadily towards Midgard, and before him -

Yes.

This was, indeed, the man he remembered from Midgard, older and markedly more haggard-looking, but him all the same, and at his side a child was curled.

Loki blinked at them, confused by what he was seeing. Then he realised they were both unconscious, and that, in fact, the ship was extremely low on oxygen, and decided that details could be examined later. Now, he needed to get them somewhere they could recover enough to be of use to him – or at least the man would, but Loki would never leave a child there.

He wasn’t _Aesir_, after all.

Thanos really should have paid more attention when he’d told him that.

With bitterness that was almost overwhelming, Loki took the two mortals back to the ruins of Angrboda’s house.

He did not have anywhere else to go, and it was not as if they were there to complain about uninvited guests any more.

Pushing his pain and bitterness and rage aside, he set the mortals down on the relatively well-preserved torso of a bed he found in a room that had been the furthest from the explosion he’d caused, and gave them a critical look. He knew little enough about humans, but assuming they worked similarly to other breathing species, he believed that with enough oxygen in the air, they would gradually recover from that ailment on their own. The man also seemed to have been injured, but the injury appeared to be healing and not a matter of emergency, so Loki simply sat down on the ground opposite the bed and waited.

As he did so, he wondered what had happened. 

It could not have been Thanos. Had it been Thanos, they would not have been alive.

But if it wasn’t Thanos, how did they come to be away from Midgard?

His mind ran round and round with the question, coming up with more improbable answers as time progressed, all to avoid thinking about what he would be thinking about otherwise.

The man – Stark, Loki seemed to remember now that he saw him – woke first.

He groaned, looked around himself, and when his eyes aligned on Loki, he tensed. “So,” he said then, and it was clear he strove for the casual tone he had employed years ago in his tower, but he was too exhausted and in too much pain to achieve it with any success, “are you in your ‘I’ll crush you, mortals’ mood, or in ‘self-sacrificing brother of Thor’ mood?”

“I am in my ‘I’ll crush everyone’ mood,” Loki answered without an ounce of humour, “but fortunately for you, I need your help with that.”

“Right, and you’re assuming that after Thanos won, I’m nihilistic enough to help you out?” The man asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow and hissing in pain as he clearly moved something he shouldn’t have.

“No. But Thanos being on the top of the list of people I am intending to crush, well, that I rather hoped might be enough of an incentive,” Loki replied evenly.

A spark of fury appeared in the man’s tired eyes, fury Loki could relate to perfectly. “Tell me more,” he said.

And Loki did, speaking of powerful artefacts known to Asgard that could help in their quest, and the time and effort needed to gather them, as they were scattered across the realms.

“Okay,” Stark said when Loki finished, “and what about Thor?”

Loki’s tone immediately turned frosty. “He survived?” He asked incredulously.

“No idea, but if he did?”

“If I have any choice in the matter, I will have nothing to do with him or anyone from that accursed realm, ever again,” Loki hissed venomously.

Stark put up his hands. “All right, clearly I should have paid more attention to the crushing everyone thing. But...well. I don’t know what happened between you and your home planet, but I’m...not like that. I have people on Earth I care about. I need to know what happened to them, if they are safe, if they need my protection-.”

Loki scowled. He had no intention of letting the man go back to Midgard – there was a good chance he would decide to stay there. He began to think about ways of dealing with the problem without incapacitating or limiting Stark in any way when the boy stirred.

Stark was immediately by his side. “Peter, are you all right?” He asked frantically.

“Yeah…” The boy said slowly. “Yeah, I think I am, but...what happened? Where are we?” he looked around, sitting up. “How did we get off the ship.”

“You know, that’s actually a really good question. Where _are_ we?” Stark asked, clearly directing it to Loki even though he never turned from the boy.

“Alfheim,” Loki replied succinctly.

The boy clearly only noticed him now, and looked extremely confused. “Um...who’s that?” He asked.

“Loki,” Stark replied. “He’s...an ally.”

The boy simply nodded, obviously not knowing about Loki’s part in the chitauri invasion to Midgard. Interesting. 

“What happens now?” The boy asked, sounding unsure. 

“Loki has a plan for...undoing Thanos’ victory, do I get you right?”

“And getting revenge,” Loki added. Then an idea occurred to him. “Perhaps I could manage to send the boy to Midgard,” he offered. “He could deliver the news of your survival.”

“No,” the boy said, his voice still weak but his resolve shining through all the same. “I want to help.”

“Besides, we don’t know what happened to Earth,” Stark added. “Thanos went there. It might not be in any state to...I need to know, first.”

Loki thought furiously. “Do you have any way to communicate?”

Stark snorted. “Yeah, but nothing that travels faster than light, so it’s pretty much useless at this point, I’m guessing – though I don’t exactly have coordinates for however you said this place was called, so what do I know, we might just be around the corner from Earth.”

Loki shook his head. “We are not,” he said, “but I can solve that. I can create a miniature portal, and if all you need to send is some sort of signal…”

Stark immediately nodded. Then he paused. “If you can create a miniature portal, could you not create one big enough for both of us? Come to think of it, you got us off the ship, you must have some way to travel long distances with a burden…”

“I do,” Loki admitted easily.

“So you could get us both to Earth,” Stark said, giving him an intent look.

“I could,” Loki said evenly.

“But you won’t,” Stark surmised.

“No.”

“...why?”

“Because I need you with me, and I will not give you a chance to get away,” Loki stated plainly. “I saved your life, Stark. You owe me. Remember that.”

Stark’s eyes flickered to the boy, and Loki stored that information away. Evidently, the boy’s life was more valuable to Stark than his own. That was very useful.

Not that Loki truly wanted to find out if he’d kill another’s child to save his own, but it was enough to have the threats available. It wasn’t like Stark, after the experience he’d had with Loki, would know he was bluffing.

“I will let you send a message to Midgard, and receive some news if there are any to be had,” Loki stated firmly. “That is all. And ask after the beast that incapacitated me once while you are at it.” They could use some more brute force.

Stark scowled at him, but, not having much choice in the matter, after a moment he agreed.

He powered up his armour, and Loki opened the micro portal, and they waited.

Then, Stark slid from the bed to his knees, armour and all.

“Mr. Stark?” The boy immediately called, alarmed, scrambling to go to him. “Mr. Stark, what happened?”

Stark’s helmet receded, and Loki could see that he was crying, fat tears rolling down his face.

The boy looked unsure what to do, and so they both stood, awkwardly, and watched Stark crumble.

After a time, Loki went to secure the house and gather and prepare some food in the entirely ruined kitchen, and settled down on the ground with the boy to eat, the remains of some piece of furniture between them as a makeshift table. Stark had walked away somewhere, but Loki was not worried. He would not get far here, not after Loki had set his wards.

He rejoined them when they were finishing dinner, and he said firmly: “We start tomorrow.”

Loki only nodded, for the moment, but after the boy retreated back to the bed in exhaustion, he approached Stark and asked: “What happened?”

“How is that any of your business?” Stark asked in a hard voice.

“I need to know if I can count on you or if you will fall apart again,” Loki said plainly.

“My girlfriend was pregnant,” Stark replied and now his voice was as cold as the plains of Jotunheim. “I didn’t know – it was early yet, she was planning to tell me. It was a girl. She wanted to call her Morgan, if I agreed. They’re both gone.”

Loki only nodded in understanding, thinking of Hela turning to dust under his hands. “We start tomorrow,” he reiterated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the chapters will get more cheerful as time goes on!
> 
> I figure Pepper would be old enough for a first time mother to get some genetic testing done, so she’d know the gender of the baby early, and she could have possibly been in her 11th week in IW - there’s a lot of variation in belly size at that point. And yeah, Rhodey would have totally told her what was going down, and she would have known she might not survive Thanos’ snap and left a message. It is of course debatable whether she’d have told Tony about Morgan - she might have wanted to spare him, but I can equally imagine she’d have wanted Morgan to live in memory at least.


	2. Words of truth it told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, Loki and company go looking for some advice.

Loki spent the night considering his plan and possible changes in it. He had originally meant to go to Midgard for the beast at some point, but after Stark’s reaction the previous night, he did not think it would be wise. Not now, at least. And after all, the beast was needed for strength, which was not what he needed most immediately. He could postpone that, a little, wait until Stark was more ready to face what Midgard represented.

He thought of Hela and Asgard, and cursed himself for a hypocrite.

The next day, Stark rose early – Loki was not certain he had slept at all – and as they sat together to eat some breakfast Loki had procured, Stark asked, still in that hard voice from the previous night: “What’s the plan?”

“We need a weapon powerful enough to defeat Thanos,” Loki explained, concise, “and we need to find a way to undo what Thanos did.”

Stark only nodded. “I assume we need the stones for that?”

“Most likely, but...it might be more complicated than that,” Loki said vaguely, unwilling to share his speculation. “First, we need to seek out Mimir.”

“And that is?”

“The wisest being in the Nine realms, or so the stories say.” Loki scoffed. “The Aesir cut off his head over some petty squabble, and Odin kept it alive to give him advice at one point, when he was freshly king, to avoid making a mess of his reign.”

Stark grimaced. “Your dad’s a real charmer, isn’t he?”

“He’s not my father,” Loki hissed.

Stark put up his hands. “Fine, whatever.”

“No, Stark, it is not whatever,” Loki insisted in a venomous tone, leaning over their improvised table to add emphasis to his words. “Would you claim as a father the man who took your daughter’s life?”

Stark shot him a look filled with loathing. “Don’t throw that in my face,” he said sharply.

“I had a daughter once, too,” Loki retorted, no less angry. “I lost her because of Odin, as I did my other children.”

That seemed to take the wind out of Stark’s sails, and he frowned, staying silent for a moment. “Did your b-, Thor, did Thor know?” He asked then.

Loki scoffed, settling back into his place. “Of course he knew, foolish mortal. The whole nine realms knew.”

Stark gave it some more consideration, then shook his head. “I don’t believe you. He always claimed to love you, and he’s not the consummate liar between the two of you.”

Loki laughed bitterly. “Oh no, Thor is very proficient at lying to himself. He loved me, of course,” and Loki fairly spat the word, “as long as I was the obedient little brother. My children, though, were monsters to him, and never anything more.”

Stark’s frown deepened. “Were they...ill?” He asked then, carefully.

Loki laughed once more, and this time there was a tinge of madness there, he could feel it himself. “Ill! Two of my sons are a great wolf and a great serpent, and my daughter was the Queen of Helheim. I bore Sleipnir myself, and even Váli and Narfi could have been strong, had they not been slain or driven mad as children. No, they were not ill, Stark; they were too powerful for Asgard to tolerate.”

Stark was staring at him, incredulous. “Wait...you mean all that shit in mythology is actually true?”

Loki shrugged, disinterested. “I know not what you stories tell you, Stark, but I had my children taken from me by Odin and Asgard, and when finally I held my daughter in my arms again, Thanos snatched her from me. There is little left of Asgard to revenge myself on – my daughter had already taken her revenge for me – but Thanos, Thanos will pay.”

Stark opened his mouth, but then his eyes widened and narrowed, looking at something behind Loki, and when Loki turned, he saw the boy standing in the ruined doorway, his eyes very wide. 

When he saw he’d been noticed, he shuffled to the makeshift table and settled down next to them without saying much of anything.

In fact, there was a long silence before Stark asked Loki: “Will this Mimir be willing to help you?”

Loki grinned, and that was tinged with madness too. “Once I tell him of my hatred of Odin? I very much hope so.”

The boy cast him a nervous look.

He seemed to consider speaking several times, opening and closing his mouth, before he finally said: “This Mimir guy...is it still just his head, or…?”

Stark groaned quietly, clearly in reaction to how much the boy had heard. “Yes, it is only his head,” Loki confirmed, trying to rein in his temper when speaking to the boy. “But the head is still very much alive, and it will make it easier to take him with us, since Mimir was a frost giant.” It was rather wondrous, really, how Loki managed to believe what he did about the giants when he had known, ever since he was a teenager, what race Mimir came from. Truly, his past gullibility would never cease to astonish him.

“Do you know where to find him?” 

This was Stark asking, and so Loki felt no compunction about spitting “Nifleheim” at him.

The boy blinked. “What’s that?”

Loki took a deep breath. “Another realm, much like Midgard or this one.”

“All right,” Stark said slowly, “but knowing the planet where we can find him is not exactly a precise location.”

Loki scowled at him. “Once we are there,” he forced himself to explain, “I can search with my magic. So, are you ready to go?” He was almost growling by the end, and Stark put up his hands in surrender.

“Sure,” he said, and the boy nodded as well, and so Loki rose and extended his hands.

They took them, and Loki enveloped them in protective magic before he transported them to Nifleheim.

It was not a kind realm, and mortals, as they were, could not survive it.

Once they stood on its surface, enveloped in mist and the pervasive cold, Loki did his best to concentrate. It was not easy, under the circumstances. There was something inherently disquieting about this place, and the fact that he knew it had been the prison of his daughter for so long did not make it better. So he forced the unnatural cold and mist out of his mind, as well as the chattering voice of the boy wondering about what they saw, and focused, looking for the only life to be found on this bleak world.

Once he had a direction, he took the hands of his two companions and teleported them.

“...what was that?” Stark asked once he realized they were still standing in the middle of impenetrable mist. 

“I sense the direction,” Loki replied, “but not the precise location. We will have to do this in jumps. Now, quiet and let me concentrate.”

The realm itself was fighting him. It was difficult to have any sense of direction in the mist, and several times he was worried he had already overshot or that they were moving in circles, kept from reaching their goal by the magic of this place. He had only been here once, when very young, shortly after he had learned to skywalk, and he had quickly left again after discovering what a hostile place it was. Afterwards, when Hela was imprisoned, the path had been closed to him by Odinforce. For all he had pretended to Stark this task would not present any difficulty for him, he was not at all certain he was capable of completing it.

But then he closed his eyes and focused for the umpteenth time, and suddenly he felt the presence so very near him, and it was all he could do not to run as he curtly instructed the two mortals to walk with him.

Mimir was not far.

The mist suddenly parted, and there his head sat on an outcropping, glaring at Loki in a manner not at all friendly.

“So you have survived the fall of Asgard and the mad Titan both,” he said. “Should anyone ever doubt the Norns have a cruel sense of humour, here is the proof. The destroyer of a world, and he is preserved.”

Loki did his best not to flinch, or show in any other ways how affected he was by the words. _You’re used to doing nothing but masking your feelings_, he told himself firmly. This was but a drop in the ocean.

“One would think, O wise one,” he said aloud, “that you’d appoint some portion of the blame to Odin as well.”

“I lay all of the blame at Odin’s feet, for all the bad that has happened in the realms since he took the throne,” Mimir replied, “but that does not absolve _you_ of guilt. Why are you here, accursed?”

“I want to kill Thanos,” Loki said plainly. “And I want to undo what he did. I would have also liked to revenge myself on Odin and Asgard, but that was done for me already.”

Mimir scoffed. “You played at the All-Father for years, and you wish me to believe you wanted the realm destroyed?”

“I was trying to find a way to free my children first!” Loki exploded.

“Yes, and in freeing one, you lost your chance of seeing the others. Once again, the Norns are cruel, and thus I gain a fragment of my justice for my home. If you think I will help you, you are even more of a fool than I thought.”

Loki was, in truth, not certain he could resist killing what remained of the giant, whatever the consequences.

Fortunately, before he could act, Stark spoke: “It’s all nice and well that you hate Loki,” he said, “trust me, I’m not exactly fond of the guy either, but what I want is undo what Thanos did. That was my family he cost me. So get over yourself.”

Mimir’s eyes turned to Stark for the first time. “You’re certainly bold, for a mortal,” he said.

Stark scoffed. “You and your superior immortal bullshit can just fuck right off. I have enough of that with Reindeer Games here, and I’m just about done with it. Are you gonna help us, or do you want to spend the rest of eternity sitting on this fetching rock?”

That seemed to catch Mimir’s attention. “It is true that you, as a Midgardian, certainly have enough reason to detest him – though not nearly as much as I do – and yet you are willing to put it aside,” he mused, and after a short silence, conceded: “Very well, I will help you,” he said, “if you then bring me back home, as payment for my services.”

“Done,” Stark said without hesitation, but Mimir was looking at Loki.

Of course.

Loki did not relish the idea of going to Jotunheim – he would likely not survive the trip, and he had hoped to have a chance to spend some time with his daughter.

But, well. Hela hated him, as she had made abundantly clear while travelling the Bifrost, for leaving her in her prison. She was unlikely to wish him by her side, no matter if he saved her or not. 

So, all in all, there was hardly any hesitation for him as well when he declared: “I accept the deal.”

-

In spite of having Mimir with him, which made him more than a little nervous, Loki was very thankful to be gone from Nifleheim.

Once they were back in Alfheim, and settled a little from the creeping nightmare of the cold world, Mimir, whose head was stationed on a bit of a ruined wall, commanded: “You have met with the Titan. Tell me of your encounter.”

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but then he realised the head was talking to Stark, not him, and in some surprise, turned to listen.

And then was astonished.

He had known Stark was brave, of course – the man had faced him during his invasion to Midgard, after all, with nothing there to protect him – but this, this was almost incredible for a mortal, and yet there was no trace of lying in the man’s bitter words as he described how they had almost defeated Thanos, if it hadn’t been for personal grief.

“I don’t blame Quill,” Stark said. “I know sometimes you just...can’t take it. But at the same time, I feel like I would kill him on the spot, if he’d survived the disaster.”

Mimir only slowly nodded.

Loki listened on, and his astonishment was joined by grief when he heard of the great role the boy had played in the fight. He was clearly strong, from what Stark had said, but to be forced to take part in such horrors at such a young age...even Loki, who had fought since he was a teenager as well, waited for a long time to face such odds.

And when he did, he had failed, much more so than this little mortal boy.

For the first time, he felt a hint of regret at giving Thanos the space stone so easily. He knew he could have never resisted for long – he knew that from bitter experience – but perhaps if he had let himself be tortured for a time, it would have given the Midgardians time to…

To what? From what Stark had said, more time on Loki’s side would never have helped them, and Loki would never regret taking the stone from Asgard. He had needed it to save Hela.

So he pushed these thoughts aside, and focused back on Mimir.

“Time cannot be changed,” the Jotun was saying, “but what has been done can be reversed. You will need a weapon to kill Thanos, and then you will have to collect the stones and return all who have been lost. The Titan has attempted to destroy the stones, but that is not possible without destroying all existence as well. So he scattered them, making them difficult to collect. Kill him first, then come back for advice about the stones.”

“Right…” Stark said slowly. “He doesn’t have the stones, he should be easier to deal with now.”

“He only had the Power stone when he attacked the Asgardian ship,” Loki replied, “and he still defeated all who were there, including your beast.”

Stark wore an expression that seemed to indicate what he thought of such incompetence for a moment before he said: “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t say easy, I said easier. Any advice on this, O wise one?”

This was addressed to Mimir, of course, who would have probably waved his hand if he had one. “Go to Nidavellir,” he said. “Have Eitri forge you another weapon. With that, it will be easy.”

“Another?” Stark asked, a question that burned in Loki’s mind as well.

“I know he has forged one already – I felt the power of it being born. It was for Thor,” Mimir spat the name, “a weapon of storm. But Eitri can make you another.”

That did sound like a promising start, in spite of Loki’s...difficult relationship with the dwarves. He could only hope that, much like Mimir, they would put their hatred of him aside to deal with Thanos.

Whatever they did to him afterwards, he did not much care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Snorri has Mimir’s story differently, but given that Mimir is a Jotun, it didn’t make much sense in MCU’s history of the relations between Asgard and Jotunheim...so I’m imagining the hostage exchange happened at some point in the Asgard/Jotunheim war, and Asgard was the one to try and kill Mimir.


	3. The dwarfs the race create, from the sea-giant's blood and livid bones.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nidavellir ahoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Voluspa, obviously describing the creation of dwarves.

Unsurprisingly, Stark wished to set out for Nidavellir the very next day, but there Loki had to stop him. Now that he knew what they needed to do, he required some time to plan.

“Not sure I trust your planning abilities exactly,” Stark groused. “I mean, it’s not like the invasion was all that well executed.”

Loki merely gave him a scathing look, but the boy asked: “What invasion?”

Stark groaned. “Any chance you’d just forget I said that?” He asked.

“No, Mr. Stark, absolutely no chance,” the boy said with a small grin. There were shadows behind it, unsurprisingly, but still, Loki was glad the boy could smile.

Stark, too, did his best to return the smile, though it came through as a bit more of a grimace. “Then I’m sure Loki will be happy to explain,” he said.

Loki raised his eyebrows. “I did think you wanted me to concentrate on planning, but gladly. I was...captured, in a sense, by Thanos and tortured into getting Tesseract for him from Earth and into commanding his army.”

The boy was clearly smart, because it didn’t take him long at all. “Wait...the New York alien attack? That was you?” Then he paused. “No, more important question: that was _Thanos_? All the way back then?”

Loki supposed that for him, six years were a very long time.

“Yes,” he said, “all the way back then, and a long time before. Titans live for a very long time, and from what I gathered when I was in his...service, Thanos has had his insane dream for most of his life.”

The boy scowled. “But if we had six years’ warning, why didn’t we prepare for him in any way? Like, he caught us entirely by surprise, didn’t he?”

Stark grimaced. 

“You didn’t know it was him behind the attack,” Loki began to explain.

“I did,” Stark interrupted him.

Loki stared at him. “What?”

“I didn’t know his name was Thanos, or who he was, obviously,” Stark elaborated. “But I knew this was bigger than just you and the few chitauri that came through. I- oh right, you haven’t seen it, you were knocked out. I flew through the wormhole, delivered a nuke to the army that waited on the other side...but I kinda couldn’t avoid seeing that it was way, way bigger when I was there.”

Loki shuddered a little. For a mortal to see something like that must have been…well. “Why didn’t you prepare Earth, then?” He asked to drown out any potential guilt over making Stark face that.

Stark scoffed. “I tried. As it happened, no one really believed me, so...”

That, too, was painfully familiar to Loki. “At least you were asked,” he muttered, more to himsef than to Stark.

Stark blinked. “Sorry?”

“At least you had an opportunity to tell someone about what happened,” Loki elaborated irritably. “I was gagged while still inside your tower, and no one _asked_ why I was suddenly leading an invasion army before I was thrown into a solitary cell.”

“You mean there wasn’t a trial?” The boy asked, scandalized.

Loki gave him a mildly insane grin. “Oh, there was a trial, if you want to call it that. My so-called father, a very impartial judge as I am certain you agree, told me he won’t execute me only because my mother, another impartial figure, interceded on my behalf, and then I was thrown into prison. That was it.”

The boy looked scandalized. Stark, on the other hand, shot him a doubtful look. “Did you get ungagged for the trial?” He asked.

“Yes,” Loki admitted reluctantly.

“Then you had as much chance to let someone know as I did,” Stark retorted. “No one _asked_ me what I saw on the other side either. I tried to share it with my teammates – not the sort of thing you want to exactly shout from the rooftops unless you want to cause a wide-scale panic, but someone should know, I thought – and I was told that, and I quote, ‘if we lose, we lose together’.”

Loki scoffed, but he wasn’t the only one – he was astonished to hear the boy make an almost identical sound.

“That is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “I mean, how does that help?”

“My point exactly,” Stark agreed. “So, with that in mind, I need to know that this time we actually win. I’m not interested in losing together. In other words, I wanna work on that plan with you, Reindeer Games.”

Loki rolled his eyes at the nickname and sneered. “You know much about the dwarves, Stark?”

“No, but I’m sure you can bring me up to date. I don’t need the whole history, you know, just the highlights are fine.”

Loki shook his head. “I am willing to consult this plan with you,” he conceded, “once it is finished. But explaining everything to you as I prepare it would only hold me back.”

And with that, he teleported away, to think in peace.

-

When Loki returned to Angrboda’s destroyed house in the afternoon, he was astonished to discover three lumpy pillows around their improvised dining table, and the table itself, in fact, having been given a proper number of legs that made it stand evenly.

He stared at Stark, but the man shook his head. “Don’t look at me,” he said, settling down on one of the pillows.

Loki transferred his gaze to the boy, who looked away, embarrassed. “Um,” he said. “We just did crafts at school, okay, and I know how to sew, technically, so I decided that, you know, we should have somewhere to sit? And the table legs, well, that was easy, really...”

“Where did you find the tools?” Loki asked curiously.

“Well,” the boy’s embarrassment deepened. “I kinda carry a needle and thread with me all the time, you know, a habit from back when my suit wasn’t all high tech…? And there was plenty of nails lying around here, and spare wood, so I just improvised a hammer and I was done...I mean it’s not much, really, but I just...I just thought it would be better if we had somewhere to sit properly.”

“It’s...very good,” Loki said awkwardly.

“Yes, so show your appreciation, sit your ass down, and explain your plan,” Stark interjected, and for the lack of anything better to do, Loki obeyed.

The plan was sophisticated and elaborate, and completely useless, because when they appeared in Nidavellir, they found it in ruins.

Eitri was sitting in the midst of them, and the look he gave Loki was empty.

“Your brother was here already,” he said in a hollow voice. “I cannot do any more.”

“Thor failed,” Loki said plainly. “Now we were sent by Mimir to undo his failure.”

All right, he might have been twisting the facts a little, but compared to what his original plan had been, he being was entirely upfront.

“Mimir?” Eitri asked, a hint of curiosity appearing in his voice. “He has agreed to help you?”

“Old animosities have to be buried if we are to undo what Thanos did,” Loki declared, remembering his centuries of diplomacy in service of Asgard. He detested himself for it now, but at least it had taught him skills he could use.

“I have nothing to offer but what I offered to Prince Thor – a weapon to kill Thanos. If that was not enough...”

“Thanos is weaker now than he was before,” Loki pointed out. “He lost the power of the stones. If you make a weapon like that for us, we can kill him.”

“I cannot create a weapon like that for you,” Eitri said. “It was the Stormbreaker, and you are not the god of thunder. And your brother held the heart of the star open for me as I worked, can you do that? Can you be my hands, after Thanos took them from me?”

“No,” Loki admitted, and he felt his hopes of revenge crumbling. If this was the only way Mimir could see…

“But I can,” Stark declared firmly, and Eitri focused on him for the first time.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I spent my whole life making weapons,” Stark replied. “And I’m pretty sure I can help you if you tell me what you need. As for Loki not being enough of a thunder god for a stormbringer or whatever, is thunder magic weapon the only kind that can kill Thanos?”

“No,” Eitri conceded, giving Stark a contemplative look.

“OK, so what other sorts are there?” Stark prodded.

“Any element can, when properly forged,” Eitri explained. “Lightning, fire, ice, even earth, though it would be more difficult...”

Ice.

Loki had a very unpleasant feeling he knew where this was headed.

“All right then!” Stark said. “So where do we start?”

-

It turned out it was going to be complicated.

The star forge was damaged, and required some repairs, which would be up to Loki, who had the reach of his magic.

Meanwhile, Stark and the boy were helping Eitri with designing the weapon, trying to decide on the most fitting element.

So Loki, naturally, instead of focusing on his work, was arguing with himself about revealing his heritage.

He had known it wasn’t truly shameful for years now, he thought he’d come to terms with it, he had even put on those plays as Odin...but still, the idea of speaking about it in front of Eitri was...unbearable.

Stark was easier, though. Being form Midgard, he had no context, and he would not know what it meant.

Loki could force himself to tell Stark, and have him give some excuse why ice was necessary to Eitri.

Loki took a deep breath. “Stark, I need to talk to you for a moment,” he said, motioning for the man to follow him to the side.

Stark hesitated, but then reluctantly left the boy with Eitri to approach Loki and ask impatiently: “What is it?”

“The element for the weapon...it needs to be ice,” Loki said abruptly.

Stark frowned. “Why? Eitri said any element can-”

“Yes, but I will wield it,” Loki interrupted him impatiently, “and I am telling you ice will be best.”

Stark gave him a dubious look. “Why, do you have some ice based powers?”

“Yes,” Loki said through gritted teeth, seizing on the semi-excuse, then added: “Just make up a scientific reason why we need ice and tell it to Eitri.”

Stark scowled at him. “I might not have known the guy for long, but I know he’s a pro. He won’t just buy some random excuse. Why don’t you simply tell him, anyway?”

“It’s...” Just say it, he told himself. It is not hard, only three words. _I am Jotun._

Still, he couldn’t make himself. It would have been the first time he actually said it out loud, and...no.

Instead, he created a spear of ice in his hand – a small one, hidden, so that Eitri didn’t notice – and showed it to Stark, seeing the man’s eyes widen.

“This is an inborn skill of mine,” he said. “But it is...shameful to have, in Asgard and other realms too. If Eitri knew, he might refuse to work with me. So if you want Thanos dead, use your creativity, Stark, and _make something up_!”

Stark gave him a considering look. “No,” he said then. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. You’re not lying completely, but there’s something you aren’t telling me, and I’m not lying for you unless I know what it is.”

Loki growled in exasperation, and as Stark turned to leave, he caught him by the wrist.

“Let me go,” Stark hissed.

“No. This is important.” Loki let his eyes bleed into red, and noted Stark’s flinch with great satisfaction. “I’m not Asgardian,” he hissed, the most he could actually get himself to say, “but that is not something you want known here, Stark.”

Stark was frowning at him. “Are you even Loki at all?” He asked suspiciously.

Loki laughed mirthlessly. “Depends how you look at it,” he replied. “Was that the name my parents gave me at birth? No. But it was the name under which I was raised, so it will have to do. I gather Thor,” he spat the name, “never told you about my so-called adoption?”

“He did,” Stark said hesitantly, “but he never said you were adopted from a different race.”

Loki gave another short, bitter laugh. “No wonder – he was ashamed, I am sure. But it is the truth, and one that needs to be hidden from Eitri.”

Stark frowned as he considered that. “Why don’t you just invent some weird magicky reason why you need ice, then?” He asked then.

Loki scoffed. “The only ones with ice-based magic are the Jotnar. If I claimed that, Eitri would know what it meant immediately.”

Stark’s frown deepened. “Okay, but...won’t he be suspicious you can wield it, then?”

Loki waved his hand. “There’s a difference between an ability to wield, and it being the only element I am suited to. The Jotnar blood is in Asgardian royal family. Even Thor could wield an ice weapon, it would simply be much less effective that the storm-based ones he had.”

Stark looked at him for a moment. “Jotnar blood is- Then why do you- OK, no,” he interrupted himself for the second time in a row. “I have so many questions, but now is probably not the time.” Ha paused to give Loki another piercing look. “All right, I’ll think of a reason for Eitri, but give me some time. Go work your magic in the meantime, and trust me, I _will_ be expecting answers later on.”

Not having many other options, Loki did as he was told, doing his best not to contemplate how much Stark would tell Eitri, and how much he would demand to know.

And how many lies he should prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, given the plays Loki put on, he is in fact being rather irrational here, since the news was bound to have reached Nidavellir. But well. When has Loki ever been rational about his Jotun heritage?


	4. The weapons' edge I deaden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanos is going down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Odin's rune song.

It took them a week to create the weapon.

A week of Loki’ careful work with magic, first familiarizing himself with the star forge to make sure he would not damage everything, and then painstaking restoration of what had existed before. The star forge, he knew, could not run on magic. Magic could be used to restore it, but it had to be restored so that once it was done, no traces of magic remained, otherwise the weapons would not be half as powerful.

It was exhausting work.

Meanwhile, Eitri, Stark and the boy – Peter, as he kept reminding Loki – worked on the weapon plans. It took Stark a day to come up with a suitable reason for ice as the best element, something Loki barely understood but that seemed to fool Eitri, and from then on it was drawing designs, and arguing, and drawing some more.

Every evening, they retired back to Angrboda’s old house, exhausted, to have some food, since there was nothing on Nidavellir for mortals to eat. And in the morning, it was a rich breakfast and off to the forge again.

At the end of this week, it was finally time to open the star forge, pour the prepared metal – Loki had no idea about the exact composition, though he assumed there was some uru involved – into the mould glowing with runes, and hope the Norns did not hate them.

They all held their breath as the forge did its work, and Loki could almost feel the fates of the world hanging in the balance. 

It was like ozone in the air before rain, but on a different plane of existence.

And then it was done, and the tension disappeared. The star did not burn them, the mould was filled, Stark and the boy did who knew what to it to cool it and sharpen it and make the handle, and...

It was done, and looking quite proud, the boy presented the weapon to Loki.

Or rather, weapons.

They were two exquisite looking daggers, bright as the purest diamond, glittering in the darkness of the forge.

Loki stared.

“I asked for a powerful weapon to kill a Titan,” he said when he found his voice, dripping disdain, “and you give me-”

“Oh, shut up,” Stark interrupted him, shocking him enough that he did. “You’re too smart to spew this bullshit, and we’ve already had to argue with Eitri about this. Yeah, lightning is all cool and impressive and all that, but do you think what those things can do?”

Loki gave him a dubious look. “Tell me, then.”

“It’s pure poison,” Stark said. “Not only are they the sharpest daggers ever made, and strongest, too, but...it’s water, right? Innocent, harmless, clean water. The moment you break the skin with intent, these innocent molecules of water will get inside the body – and they well get everywhere, with no defences standing against them, because they are only water, and water is neutral, it does no harm, you can’t have your body defend against water...so they will get inside every cell in your victim's body, and there, they fill _freeze_.” There was a glint in Stark’s eyes, and that glint was nothing but evil. “They will freeze very, very cold,” the man said. “Not only will it mean death, it will mean instant death.” He waved his hand. “Everyone can make big weapons that go boom, but this, this just might be the most insidious thing I’ve ever created. And it means...” His voice broke a little, but he took a deep breath and continued: “Well, it means that even if something goes wrong during the attack, even if we don¨t manage to finish it as we imagine, Thanos will still die.”

Stark gave him a look which was a mix of defiance, pride and determination, seeming to expect some sort of reaction, but Loki stayed silent, dumbfounded.

He could only stare at this hero of Midgard, this man who himself was the flashiest, most obvious weapon possible, and who prided himself on making others like this.

This man, this one of all of them, was presenting him a pair of daggers with poison, and praising them?

As if there was nothing dishonourable, nothing feminine at all in fighting like that?

Loki had no idea what to say, and so he simply nodded and hid the daggers in a pocket dimension.

Wouldn’t do, after all, to cut himself by accident.

“Let us go,” he said abruptly, and they did.

-

They put their plan for Thanos together during the next day.

Mimir told them where to find him, and that he was alone, living in a cottage in the country.

Loki wanted to laugh when he heard that, and Stark looked furious, but in the end it was Peter who said, pragmatically: “Well, that will make it easier to kill him...won’t it?”

“Yes, Peter,” Loki said with a small, amused smile. “It very much will.”

In the end, the plan was straightforward. Loki found an empty spaceship on Alfheim – there were plenty to spare these days – masked it so that it was not obviously one of the Nine realms, and then they all boarded it and flew to Thanos.

He was there, just like Mimir had told them, in the middle of the countryside, by a small, unpresuming cottage.

He was working in the garden, and just for a moment, Loki understood Stark’s fury from before.

He pushed it down, however, as he ever did. He had work to do.

Stark and Peter, whom Thanos both remembered, exited the ship and challenged him loudly, claiming revenge and reparations and all other sorts of heroic nonsense. And as Thanos stood and began to explain once more why the sacrifice had been necessary, Loki crept invisible and silent behind him and slit his throat with one of his daggers, while he buried the other into his heart.

Thanos died immediately, and as they stood over his corpse, Loki becoming visible again, all they felt was a mild sense of grim satisfaction.

“All right,” Stark said then. “Now to the real task.”

-

In spite of that determination, they decided to give themselves a day to rest. Or, to be more precise, to give Peter a day to rest. Loki and Stark were both too plagued by their dark thoughts to want anything less that a moment of nothing to occupy their thoughts with, but the boy still went to bed early and woke up late. While Loki and Stark hardly slept, Peter’s body was clearly processing the extreme emotional turmoil by wanting to do nothing but, and while the boy fought it and insisted he was ‘completely fine, Mr. Stark, really’, he needed as much a break as he could get, so when Stark gave him a fleeting look and suggested taking a day off, Loki agreed without any argument and tried not to think of Hela.

He spent most of the day procuring the sorts of food that would last them longer, various flours and lentils and similar. There were many empty houses on Alfheim now, much like spaceships, and even shops could easily be found, so with enough time to look around, it was easy to procure almost anything.

When he came back to Angrboda’s house, it was to find two new beds inside, each in its own separate room – or, well, ruins of a room.

He raised his eyebrows at Peter. “I thought this was supposed to be a day of rest?”

“It’s not like you took a break,” the boy muttered under his breath, and then more loudly, said: “I slept till like noon, I’m fine, I promise, Mr. Loki. But, um, I wanted to ask you something?”

“Ask, then,” Loki invited.

“I just...could you open that mini portal thingy again? I’d- I’d really like to know if my aunt was OK, and if she was, to let her know I’m fine. I won’t leave here, I won’t, but...I don’t want her to think, you know, that...”

Loki only nodded, and tried not to consider how the boy had left the request only after their mission with Thanos. Didn’t want to give his aunt false hope, probably.

Oh well. He’d wanted Stark to contact the beast, anyway, so this sounded like a good opportunity.

To that end, he went to Stark and they established the connection to Midgard once more. Stark was inside his armour longer this time, before he stepped out and Loki closed the portal.

The man’s expression was grim, and Peter immediately grew alarmed. “Mr. Stark- what-?”

“Your aunt is fine, kid,” Stark replied roughly. “I sent the message, I’m sure she’ll be relieved.”

“Then what happened?”

“Bruce is gone,” Stark said heavily, and Loki gave him a confused look. “Banner. The Hulk,” the man elaborated, looking irritated. “As are...some other Avengers.”

“Who?” The boy asked, sounding worried.

“Rogers, Barnes...Vision of course died when Thanos took the Mind Stone from him...”

It was the last name, a name unfamiliar to Loki, that had Peter clap his hands over his mouth and blink rapidly. “I didn’t realize...” He said.

Stark sighed and put an arm around his shoulders, and Loki left them to it, going to sit outside. They deserved some privacy, and he was content – as content as he could be – watching the sunset and thinking of the feeling of his new daggers sinking into flesh.

Later, after the sun has dipped below the horizont, Stark came out of the house and sat down next to Loki on the grass.

“Peter is asleep,” he said softly, and then, after a moment, “I have questions, and you promised me answers.”

“I didn’t promise you anything, Stark,” Loki replied, “but do go on.” It was not as if he had anything particular to do, and they did fight together today, after all – for a given value of fighting, at least.

“I wanted to ask...about your time with him, now that he’s dead,” Stark said carefully.

That surprised Loki. “I thought you would be curious about my origins.”

“That, too,” Stark admitted. “But the Thanos bit, I think, is more relevant, so...if you’re only gonna tell me one thing, I’d prefer it was that.”

Well, it wasn’t as if this was a better topic. “You want to hear details of his hospitality?” Loki asked sneeringly.

Stark shook his head, leaning back on his hands. “No, just...you said you were ‘captured, in a sense’. What does that even mean? Were you just making stuff up for Peter?”

“No,” Loki immediately replied, then thought about how much to say. But, Ragnarok take it all, Thanos was dead. It wasn’t like it mattered what he revealed now, not about this. He took a moment to enjoy that thought once more, then said: “I was...never physically in the same place as Thanos or the Other. I was, however, in contact with the Mind Stone, which Thanos controlled. It felt exactly as if I was there, if not even worse.”

Loki saw Stark shudder. “Yeah,” he only said, and then: “Were you...like Barton, then? I mean, completely brainwashed?”

Loki hesitated, but then decided for honesty here too. In for a penny, in for a pound. “No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have been an effective general then, and I am not even certain Thanos could exert such control over the long distance. He threatened me with more violence, mostly, and controlled my emotions. Made me unstable, made it harder to try and focus and find a way out.”

“So when you threw me out of that window…?” Stark asked tentatively.

Loki grimaced. “Yes. That was one of such...moments. Thanos could sense when I was becoming distracted by something other than his plan, and your resistance to the Mind Stone was certainly intriguing enough to distract me, so...”

Stark nodded. “I’m glad you weren’t a volunteer for Thanos,” he offered then, simply.

Loki blinked. “You thought I was, and still allied with me?”

Stark shrugged. “I thought he threw you overboard after you were captured, and so you had some personal revenge to mete out. Not exactly admirable, maybe, but I’d ally with the devil himself here if I could trust him to go against Thanos, so...”

Loki nodded in understanding. He was surprised to be so easily believed, but not in the mood to disturb that trust by examining it too much right now. Instead, he said: “Speaking of the Mind Stone...you said, before, that one of the Avengers died because Thanos took the Stone from them. I confess I don’t understand.”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t know.” Stark sighed heavily, like it was a difficult topic for him, then explained: “I...took the Mind Stone out of the sceptre you had and created an android by combining that and my old AI, JARVIS. He was...quite powerful, really.”

Loki blinked at him once more. “You created a being with the Mind Stone?”

“Yes?” Stark said, seeming not to understand what the issue was.

Loki could not explain, because his mind was too much in a whirlwind over this new information. Part of him refused to accept it at all, told him it was impossible that such a mortal would manage a feat like that. But the boy seemed to know about this android, so it was unlikely to be a complete invention. 

Loki chased these thoughts there and back in his head for a moment, then he pacified his mistrust by deciding to talk to Peter at some later point, to verify Stark was not lying. 

Because if he wasn’t...that went long, long beyond designing weapons to defeat Thanos.

He stayed silent for too long, and Stark, naturally, took it as an opportunity to open the other topic he had come to ask about. “About your...origins,” he said, and Loki couldn’t quite stop his flinch in time.

“Yes?” He asked with a sneer.

“I was just confused,” Stark defended himself. “You said no one could know you were not Asgardian, but then you also said that your, you know, species was mixed in the Asgardian royal blood, so...I don’t get it, and I’m trying not to be always suspicious of you since we work together, but you have to admit that it looks like a pretty badly constructed lie.”

Loki chuckled bitterly, and thought about how to explain, and if he wanted to explain at all. But it did sound like a bad lie, didn’t it? He disliked the idea Stark would think him so clumsy. “Do you have a war on Midgard, Stark, that everyone remembers as the big one?” He asked.

“Yeah...yeah, we do,” Stark confirmed. “Two of them, actually, but the second one really is more important, in the States at least. What’s your point?”

“The war with Jotunheim was this, for Asgard,” Loki explained. “It didn’t matter that intermarriage was common between the royal families before it happened. After the war, they were only monsters.” He shrugged. “Not that there had been no prejudice before the war, from what I gather, but well, royal marriages happen for alliances. Sometimes you need an alliance with someone just a little subhuman.”

Stark flinched at the word, and Loki wondered whether the All-Speak translated it into something particularly offensive for him. “Right,” he said then. “I guess it makes sense. I mean, um, the British royal family have German family ties, so I guess that would be kind of similar...but then how come you were adopted? Or was that before the war?”

“No,” Loki bit out. “It was during the war.”

“Oh. Right.” There was a silence, then Stark muttered: “Sorry for prying. I just can’t help poking at these holes in your story, waiting to catch you out in a lie.”

“And yet you believed me about Thanos easily enough, without any proof on my side,” Loki pointed out, unable to resist after all.

“Well, he’s dead,” Stark said. “But also...I’ve had him in my head too.”

Loki gave him a sharp look, and Stark returned it with a grim one of his own.

“Yeah,” he said. “Not as much as you, by far, but...enough. Enough to know he can definitely do shit like that, and enough to know he can mess you up.”

Loki had nothing to say to that – except to wonder _how_, just like he still wondered about the details of the Mind Gem creature. But...he sensed it would require a long, detail discussion, and he quite simply did not have the strength for that.

He had quite exhausted his will for conversation. Now, he just wanted to sit and stare into the starlit sky.

And so he did precisely that, in silence, with Stark by his side for another hour or so before the man got up and went to sleep. Loki followed him not long after, retreating to his brand new bed built by the two humans staying with him in the house of his ex-lover, and contemplated the bizarre pathways the Norns were directing him to.

Then he contemplated the feeling of cutting Thanos’ throat, and it was that which finally lulled him to sweet, sweet sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who have read End of a Rope will recognize my theory of how Loki was captured. It’s my universal headcanon, so I use it in every story.
> 
> Sorry if you wanted a longer fight with Thanos, but one of the things I actually really liked about Endgame was the quick work they made of him without the stones. Loki is badass and has Tony’s badass daggers. Thanos doesn’t stand a chance, and he’s really not the focus in this story.


	5. Stood to the north a dark field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting the stones, step one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, September was not a good month for me and then I spent October catching up on stuff from September. But I'm working on this as my main NaNo project, so hopefully it should continue quickly!
> 
> Chapter title from Voluspa, a verse about Nidavellir, the name of which means 'dark field'.

The following morning, Loki went to consult Mimir again, with Stark and the boy by his side.

His head was still sitting on the remnants of a wall of one of the outer rooms, looking out into the forests of Alheim. It turned to them a little when they approached – as much as it could, given that there were only a few vertebrae preserved.

“Good day to you,” Loki greeted, deciding that politeness could not hurt him -a nd he was, still, in a good mood from the death of Thanos.

The giant inclined his head – again, as much as he could – in response. Loki was not certain if he was looking at him with a bit less hostility now, perhaps as a sign of respect for defeating the Titan, or if it was only his wishful thinking. Though why he should care about the opinion of a decapitated frost giant, he didn’t know.

“We have come to seek your advice on how to proceed,” he announced, in case Mimir was in any doubt about their presence.

The giant hummed. “And advice I shall give you,” he announced then. “Do you know of the mystical importance of the individual Realms?” He asked Loki.

Loki scoffed. “Of course I know, who do you take me for?”

“But I don’t,” Stark interrupted.

Loki turned to him. “There are three...stem realms, I suppose, and six branch realms of the Yggdrasil,” be began, trying to go over this as quickly as possible to get to what Mimir had to tell them. “I suppose what is relevant here are the branch realms, because they are each tied to one aspect of reality, in the same way the Infinity Stones are.”

“Okay...” Stark said slowly. “Is Earth a branch realm?”

“No. As you should know from the name Midgard, it is a stem realm that is in the very centre – the heart – of the world tree.”

“All right. Um. So what does this have to do with undoing the Snap?”

“That is what I do not know,” Loki admitted, and turned back to Mimir.

The giant gave him a look that seemed searching and mocking at the same time. “You need to travel all the branch realms,” he declared, “and you need to gain their blessing. Once you have that, you will have the stone that belong to each of the realms.”

A blessing...from each of the branch realms?

Loki could only stare.

Stark, on the other hand, was not so circumspect. “What the fuck does that even mean?” He asked.

Mimir gave him a disdainful look. “Each of the branch realms,” he said, “was formed by and around one of the infinity gems. The gems belong to them, and when they were scattered by Thanos, they returned to them. Their essence is now everywhere in those realms, in every speck of dust and every gulp of air. You need them to gain form once more, and for that, you need the realms to allow you to do that – you need their blessing.”

Stark had an expression in his face as if he was very much doubting what he was hearing. “How do we get it, then?” He asked.

“That, I cannot tell you,” Mimir replied, because of course it could never be easy. “Each realm is different, and you need to discover the way to gain its blessing for yourself. If I merely told you, it would have no effect. The journey is the goal, because through he journey, you find the goal. There are no easy answers in this.”

Loki was beginning to understand why the Aesir had cut off Mimir’s head once upon a time.

“Can you at least give us a hint?” Peter asked a little desperately.

Mimir gave him a measuring look, and at length, said: “The realms have to trust you to be willing to part with their essence for you.”

Well then, Loki thought, we are fucked.

And when he looked into Stark’s eyes, he found much the same emotion mirrored there.

This was not good.

-

They had returned to the house in a mood rather sunken after the previous days’ celebration, and settled listlessly over the table where they were sitting now, no one in the mood for eating the lunch Peter had brought from the improvised kitchen that stored Loki’s spoils.

It was the boy, unsurprisingly who rallied first.

“How about we start with Nidavellir?” He asked. “Which stone is that?”

“Space,” Loki replied.

“Great!” Peter actually smiled, in a bright way that seemed entirely unsuited to the situation. “I mean, you worked with that one a lot, right? With the invasion and everything, so you kinda know it, and even Mr. Stark knows it a bit I guess, and we have just been there, so...it just...it seems like a good place to start…?”

His voice trailed off uncertainly, and Loki forced himself to smile as well, as reassuring as he could make it. “It is,” he said.

It was. Or at least, no worse than any other.

So they gave themselves the rest of the day to plan – though under the circumstances, it was hardly more than empty theorising, and they all found themselves frustrated with it soon enough.

Peter went inside his room, likely either to sleep or to tinker with something else he felt the house needed improved, and Loki left to sit in front of the ruins, in what was becoming his habitual place.

He was there alone for a long time, but then Stark passed him on his way for something or other – Loki truly had no idea, since the wards would not allow him far – and stopped by his side.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said s little hesitantly. “What is this place?”

Loki sighed. “The home of my past lover, and the mother of three of my children.”

Stark blinked at him. “You took us to the home of your ex…?” He asked, sounding completely confused. “Why?”

Loki considered whether to answer, and whether to tell the truth, but in the end, what did it matter? And...he sort of wanted to tell the mortal. He was not sure why, except that, when the man had received his grave news from Midgard, Loki had recognized his own pain in his eyes, and even he wanted to be understood sometimes. “I came here to heal my daughter,” he replied. “Afterwards...well, it was as good a place as any.”

“Oh,” Stark said. “I am sorry.”

Loki only nodded. “Angrboda was precious to me still,” he said then. “Not as a lover would be, but for sharing fond memories of the past, I suppose, especially in this house in particular. I know it is not the same as losing a life partner, as you have, but…”

Stark, however, to Loki’s surprise, shook his head. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, settling down next to him.

“You said it was your girlfriend who perished, and the mother of your child.” Loki did remember that part entirely clearly.

Stark swallowed, and shot a fleeting look to the house. “Yes,” he said. “I didn’t feel like giving you too many details then, and besides, I didn’t want Peter to know. I don’t want to take away the few illusions he has left. But Pep and me...we were a love match once, yeah, but it fell apart. After everyone betrayed me, though, she came back to comfort me – as a friend – and...we talked a lot in those days. We realized we both wanted children – or a child, at least – but neither of us truly had any hopes of having them with anyone else. I have trust issues, and after the Civil War they got too bad to have any hope of raising a family with anyone I didn’t know as well, for as long, as Pepper. If Captain America could betray me...well. For Pep, she lived for her work and had no interest in trying to date. She just...wanted a child. So we decided to officially get back together, you know, for the press, and to get married and try for a child. It would give us what we wanted, we were good friends, and it would look good for the company.” He laughed hollowly. “What a stupid thing to worry about, in retrospect, but it was important to her.”

Oh. Then it had, in fact, been much like with Angrboda indeed, only without the hurts Loki had inflicted on her during their break-up. “Then you understand what I meant,” he said.

“Yeah. I know exactly what you meant.” Stark shook his head. “Sometimes I think I loved her more after we were only friends, you know – there was all that trust and comfort without the tension and arguments we have had almost from the start.”

That, too, Loki could understand too well. “You were lucky you remained friends,” he said.

“Yeah,” Stark admitted. “Wouldn’t have happened if Rogers hadn’t fucked me over, so...I guess at least something good came out of it, not that all those dead or permanently injured people in Bucharest would think it terribly relevant.”

Loki didn’t really know what Stark was talking about, so he stayed silent.

“Have you ever been fucked over like that?” Stark asked him after a while.

“Like what?”

“Betrayed by...well, pretty much by everyone you have ever trusted?”

Loki laughed bitterly. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, all right, fair point, your declared intention to burn everyone should have given me a hint. Still. I wasn’t sure...” he laid back on the grass and, looking at the sky, said: “It sucks balls, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Stark,” Loki replied, bitterness mixing with amusement. “It does, indeed, suck balls.”

-

The next day, they set out for Nidavellir once more.

They found Eitri sitting in his forge much like before, desolate, but at least he did raise his head when he saw them this time.

“Is he dead?” He asked, and his eyes shone with a desire for revenge.

“Yes,” Loki replied. “He is dead.”

“Thank the Norns,” Eitri whispered.

“Thank Loki,” Stark muttered. “It was him who did the deed.”

Loki waved that aside. He did not do it for gratitude.

“We are now attempting to collect the stones he had scattered,” he explained. “Mimir told us that the Space stone is here.”

Eitri straightened, and gave him a long look. “Yes,” he said at length. “Yes, it is.”

There was a silence.

“Do you...um...do you know how to get it?” Peter asked at length.

The dwarf’s intent look turned towards the boy. “Why do you need it?”

“We mean to undo what he has done,” Loki replied for Peter. “For that, we need the stones.”

Eitri made a sound that was somewhere between an enraged howl and a bitter laugh. “Undo what he has done! Yes, I am sure you will bring back those turned to dust before your eyes. But who will save Nidavellir? It was not the snap of Thanos’ fingers that killed my people, it was the blades of his soldiers, and I should give up the essence of my realm when it will bring us no healing? No. No, I will not do it! After they died, I am the only thing left of Nidavellir, and the Space stone is the only thing left to me, the only thing that keeps this realm still this realm. I will not give it up to save others. Nidavellir has suffered enough.”

And that, it seemed, was that.

Loki, feeling despair swallow him, wished he could hate Eitri for it at least. But he had no capacity for that. He knew, intimately, the feeling that you were done caring about others, that you have done enough, had enough, and you quite simply had no more strength left for anything that was not you or yours.

Stark, next to him, seemed to feel much the same, given the desperately resigned sound he made as he sat heavily on the ground. Peter, on the other hand, sounded distressed as he said: “We’re...we’re really sorry. We would help restore Nidavelir if we could, too, I swear we would, I am so sorry there is no way to do that-”

“Actually,” Loki interrupted, his mind catching on the boy’s words, “there is.”

There was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him to stop, that he would be playing with the fate of the world, that some things were not meant to be changed, that he would be crossing a boundary. 

But, much like Eitri, Loki was done caring.

There pair of eyes looked at him in a mix of surprise and hope.

“There is?” Stark asked.

“Yes,” Loki confirmed. “It will take time and effort, because it will not be done with one single snap to reverse a previous one, but it can be done – once we have the stones. We will have the soul stone and mind stone, to bring them back, and we will have the reality stone to give them bodies, and we will have the power stone to give us the strength to do it. Yes, it can be done.”

Stark and Peter were giving him astonished looks now, mixed with fearful hope that went beyodn the problem of Nidavellir. Loki could guess what they were thinking, for he was thinking it too: if this was possible, it meant anyone could be brought back from the dead.

He thought of his mother, and of his son, and the longing was sharp, but there was the voice in his head still.

Balance, he knew. If he disturbed the balance too much, there were powers that would intervene far beyond his ken. Repairing what Thanos had done, one way or another, was one thing, but this…

He turned his mind away from it. There was no need to decide now. 

Meanwhile, Eitri was giving him a heavy, considering look. 

“Very well,” he said at length. “Come back when you have all the stones you need for this, bring my people back, and I give you my solemn word that I will give you the Space Stone.”

Loki very much hoped not every realm would have such a condition, or they wouldn’t get very far. 

He was about to agree, when suddenly over the effort of pushing back thoughts of all the people he could bring back from the dead, that part of him which had hundreds of years of experience with negotiating and diplomacy managed to catch his attention. 

Something was wrong here. The agreement had been too easy.

“When I bring your people back,” Loki said with narrowed eyes, “you will no longer have sole power over the stone. You will lose the ability to give it to me.”

Eitri sighed heavily, and Loki knew he had seen through his ploy.

There was a long silence, a hesitation only those who had held an Infinity Stone in their hand could understand, and then Eitri gave another sigh.

“Very well then,” he said, and his voice was tired. “I give my solemn word that I will allow it to re-form before you bring my people back, and hand it over to you afterwards.”

Loki nodded in acceptance, and Stark raised himself from the ground with a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” Peter exclaimed, effusive. “We promise we will bring the stone back once we’re done...won’t we?” He added, turning to Stark and Loki.

Loki did not reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You though I could leave my Civil War salt out of a fic? You thought wrong.


	6. At the helm stands Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are...attempted. The attempt does not get very far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Voluspa, about Loki sailing Hel's ship.

“All right, so that...didn’t go as easily as I’d hoped,” Peter commented once they came back to Angrboda’s house. “But, I mean, it wasn’t all bad, was it? He didn’t refuse us in the end, so...it’s gonna be fine, right?”

“As long as we get the other stones,” Loki cautioned. He had serious doubts about that.

“Yeah, but if we didn’t, the space stone would be no use to us anyway,” Stark pointed out. “So really, Peter is right. It could have been much worse.”

Well, obviously, Loki thought. Things were almost never as bad that they could not be much worse, perhaps with the exception of the time he had been captured by Thanos.

“So...where do we go next?” Peter asked impatiently.

“Today, nowhere,” Loki declared. “Skywalking with you two in tow tires me out, so as there is no urgency, we wait until tomorrow.”

“All right,” Peter agreed easily, “but we can plan, right?”

Loki really only wanted to go lose himself in the forests surrounding them and be alone, but he fought down his irritation and said: “I suppose.”

“So I was thinking,” Peter continued, “we should try for the Mind Stone next? Because, well, Mr. Stark worked with it and I guess knows it really well, so...”

“Oh, I would say Loki knows it even better than myself,” Stark interrupted drily.

Yes, and he wanted to have nothing to do with it. “This one we pick up last,” he said firmly.

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again, looking uncertain and lost.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Stark asked.

Loki almost groaned aloud as he followed Stark outside. “What now?” He asked,

“Look, I get you have bad experience with the stone, I really do. I’ve had my share of them, too.”

“Did you?” Loki asked bitterly. “From what I have heard, you’ve created some amazing creature from it.”

“Yeah...on my second try,” Stark said with deep bitterness. “But that’s what I am talking about. When you had the stone...it was within the sceptre all the time, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Loki confirmed. It was a receptacle created by Thanos or some of his minions, but that was all Loki knew about it.

“Well, it was the sceptre that was evil, not the stone,” Stark explained. “I know it sounds stupid, but-”

“No,” Loki said slowly. “No, actually, it does not. But are you certain?”

“Well, I tried to create a protective AI from it when it was still inside the sceptre and it came out as a robot who wanted to kill all of humanity,” Stark replied drily. “When I tried without the sceptre, just with the stone – and JARVIS, too – I got an android that could lift Thor’s hammer.”

Loki scowled. “Given what I have told you about Thor, you should realize that would be more likely to incriminate than recommend in my eyes.”

“Um, good point,” Stark muttered. “But anyway, he really was a good guy...for a given value of guy. He was one of the two Avengers who stuck by me when Civil War went down.”

Loki gave him a searching look. “I am afraid,” he said then, “that I would need to know more about this Civil War to know what that meant.”

Stark visibly squirmed. “Yeah, I...really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can understand that,” Loki replied, “but you should understand that my misgivings about the Mind Stone are not something superficial.”

Stark seemed to think about that for a long time. “All right, I will tell you,” he said then, “if you tell me more about what happened between you and Thor, and with your children.”

Loki sneered. “Forget it, then,” he said, and teleported away into a distant forest to make sure the discussion was over.

Yes, he was running away from the conversation. He was done trying to measure up to Asgardian ideals of bravery. He had the means, so when he did not wish to confront something, he ran away. As a result, the Asgardians were dead and he was not. All in all, he thought his approach was the better one.

He came back only once the night fell, having calmed a little and having managed to deal, at least a little bit, with the thoughts of his children’s suffering, and of the possibility of bringing the dead back as they had discussed it on Nidavellir. He did not reach any kind of final resolution, but he did at least have time to allow the thoughts to flow through his head, to consider the implications, the results of such an act. He allowed himself to dream, both the pleasant dreams and the nightmares where his children screamed their hate at him.

When he returned, he was surprised to see Stark waiting at Loki’s customary spot of repose.

“Yeah, so,” he began as soon as Loki was within hearing of a quiet speech, without any kind of greeting, “I would appreciate if next time, you didn’t act like a complete asshole. We could have finished our conversation, but more importantly I had to try and convince Peter he didn’t say anything to offend you terribly when he suggested getting the Mind Stone, which was really fucking hard to do when you disappeared like that.”

Loki raised his eyebrows at him. “You should not be surprised that I act like an asshole, Stark.”

The man’s scowl did not relax. “Yeah, no, I don’t care how you treat me or Thor or anyone, but you won’t treat Peter like that. The kid’s been through enough, he doesn’t deserve to have to deal with your shit to top it off.”

Loki’s eyebrows climbed even highed. “And why should the boy care if he upset me?”

Stark shrugged. “Beats me, but he very obviously does, so get your shit together.” And with those words, the man turned on his heel and marched inside the ruined house, leaving Loki staring after him.

-

The next morning when Loki entered the dining area, Stark was not there, but Peter was sitting at the table, poking at his food unenthusiastically, so Loki settled opposite to him.

“You should know,” he began without a preamble, “that I wasn’t angry with you yesterday – I was angry with Stark.”

Peter raised his head. “What did he tell you?”

“He asked me for some personal information he should have known I would be unwilling to part with.”

Peter shook his head. “No, he told me that much, I mean what did he tell you that you knew I thought you were angry with me?”

“Just that – that you thought I was angry with you, and that he did his best to disabuse you of the notion. I thought it would be more reliable if the information came from me directly.”

Peter nodded, and there was a long silence. “Can...can I ask you something?” He said then. “I mean, maybe it’s gonna be personal information too, I don’t know, but-”

“As long as you don’t know, ask. The worst that will happen is that I refuse to answer you. I was angry at Stark because he knew precisely what he was asking.” And also because he had been overwhelmed and wanted to be left alone, but he had no intention of telling Peter _that_.

“All right. Um, so...I’ve been puzzling over this for weeks, and...what did Mimir mean when he called you a planet destroyer?” Loki closed his eyes, almost groaning at the death of his hope that no one had noticed that particular title. 

Peter continued: “Because at first I thought he meant your invasion to Earth, but that can’t be it, right? I mean, it was a big deal because it was our first alien invasion, but like, the death toll didn’t even register compared to our own wars, so...it can hardly be called planet destroying. So, did you do something like that before, only there were no Avengers to stop you?”

Loki gave a very deep sigh, contemplated his options, the future, his limits, and if debasing himself in front of these humans was really so different from bowing to the Aesir. “Where’s Stark?” He asked at length. “If I am going to be talking about this, he might as well be here. He wanted to know this too, and I will not tell it twice.”

Peter looked even more nervous now. “Um...is this what he asked you about yesterday?”

“Yes, though he did not realize it. Now where is he?”

“I think he went outside?” Peter suggested tentatively, and then: “I will go get him.”

Loki only nodded.

He did not want to talk about this, not at all, but he had thought about it last night and Stark had a point. Trust went both ways, and he had to say something at least. If he was right in his fears about getting the stones, they would be together for months more at least, and they would likely need to work together at least in some of the cases, even more so that they had on Nidavellir and against Thanos. Their little tentative alliance had been fine for that, but if what Mimir had hinted at was true and gathering the stones would require feats of intuition and deep understanding, well, then it needed something more between them, because it could easily happen that the answer to one of the riddles of the stones would lie on someone’s past, or in their weak points, and they needed to be able to share these with the others.

As, after all, was the case when it came to the Mind Stone.

Loki just really, really wished it didn’t have to be him who started. But he supposed that was what happened when you allies first encountered you as the invader of their planet. You had to make the first steps.

He was sure Peter would have cheerfully offered, but he also didn’t think the boy had such deep secrets in his life. Not that he was naive enough to believe that teenagers were all happy and innocent, his own experience with Sleipnir proved this was not the case more than enough, but still. Peter did not seem the type, as much as Loki was aware that appearances could be deceiving.

The boy came back with Stark in tow, and the man settled at the table with an expectant look.

“I will tell you some of what you had asked for yesterday,” Loki began, “but not all. I will not speak of my children.”

“Okay,” Stark said immediately, easily. It seemed he had done some thinking, too.

“To answer your and Peter’s question both, I need to begin with my origin. You remember what I told you on Nidavellir, Stark?”

“That you were Jotun?”

Loki gritted his teeth. “Yes,” he confirmed. “I was stolen from my home during a war between Asgard and Jotunheim, and after Odin changed my appearance by magic, I was adopted into the Asgardian royal family. I never exactly discovered what his plans with me had been – every idea I can come up with has an obvious flaw in it. At any rate, I was raised alongside Thor as his brother, but at the same time Odin always made it patently obvious to me that I was not the preferred son. The fact that I preferred magic and daggers to Asgardian swords and brawn did not help my case. Additionally, I was always told plenty of stories about the vicious Jotnar and their terrible king, and Odin’s heroic victory over them. I grew up hearing Thor swear he would slaughter all Jotnar.”

Peter made a distressed sound by his side, and even Stark grimaced at this. Loki ignored them and continued his story. “It was only centuries later that I found out the truth. We were banned from travelling to Jotunheim, but one day Thor decided to ignore this – after, admittedly, some plotting of my own – and rode there. We got into a fight with the giants, and one of them touched me with their cold touch – an inborn offensive ability which gives one frostbite. Not me, though. It turned my skin blue instead. Well, I suspected since then, and soon enough I verified it as well. I...did not take it well.”

Loki paused, trying to arrange his thoughts, and into the silence Peter asked: “But why did you want Thor to go to Jotunheim in the first place? Did you have some idea of whenre you came from even before the trip to Jot...well, that planet?”

“None whatsoever,” Loki replied. “But Thor was about to be crowned king, and he was not ready for that, to a degree you cannot imagine given that you only met him after his change of heart.”

“Yeah, no offence to your brother, but I wouldn’t exactly make him the king of everything as I knew him either,” Stark muttered.

Loki gave a grim smile. “Trust me that it was much worse before,” he said. “Odin refused to take my warnings seriously, so I decided to give him a proof he could not ignore. I lured two frost giants into Asgard in the middle of the coronation. Nothing happened – Asgardian defences took care of them easily – but Thor, of course, was offended because his coronation was ruined. Two sentences from me were enough to give him the final push he needed, and then off to Jotunheim he was.” Loki sighed. “That was when my plan ended – I assumed Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost, would not allow us to leave, and then the guards I had alerted to Thor’s plans would bring us to Odin, and all would be revealed. Unfortunately, just then Heimdall decided to commit treason and allowed Thor to go, sending him knowingly into mortal danger just because his pride, in turn, was injured because the frost giants got into Asgard without his knowledge, even though he normally sees everything.”

“Like...literally?” Peter asked incredulously.

Loki gave him a small, understanding smile. “Yes, unfortunately. I can hide from him, but it’s a rare skill.”

“That is so creepy,” Peter declared.

Loki chuckled a little, in spite of the topic. “You did not have to live with it,” he said. “It was one of the first skills I learned. Heimdall never trusted me – of course, now that I know he knew I was a Jotun, it is hardly surprising. But this ability of mine made him even more distrustful, and he suspected me of being behind the Jotun infiltration from the start. I expected that much, really, but I never expected he would go against Odin’s orders and endanger Thor just to be proven right. Nevertheless, he did, and we almost paid for it with our lives before Odin arrived to save us.”

“You know,” Stark mused, “I remember telling Thor this Heimdall guy was seriously creepy and him reassuring me that he was very wise and would never abuse his abilities. I’m suddenly a lot less reassured.”

“Well, you can rest easy now, at any rate,” Loki replied. “Heimdall is dead, with the rest of Asgard.”

“Oh. Okay,” Stark said, sounding a little unsure.

“Odin banished Thor to Midgard for his hard-headedness,” Loki continued his tale, “and then found me just after I have discovered my true origins. I hurled my accusations at him, he responded with some placating lies, and in the end it was too much strain for him and he descended into Odinsleep.”

“Odinsleep?” Peter asked.

“It’s like hibernation, from what Thor said,” Stark explained before Loki could say anything.

Loki chuckled again. “Something like that, yes. Regenerative sleep. Normally, under such circumstances, my mother took the throne, but this time she wanted to show her support, and I was an adult for the first time during one of these episodes, with Thor out of the picture. So...she gave me the rule of Asgard.” He grimaced. “That...was not the best decision.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Stark muttered. “Did she not know you found out?”

“She did,” Loki replied. “I did pretend to be less affected than I was, of course, but still...I am surprised. She knew me well, my mother. She should have known I was not as calm as I was pretending to be. But she gave me the throne, and effectively the very first thing to happen was that Thor’s four closest friends – who have also pretended, with limited success, to be my friends for centuries – betrayed me and went against my orders to retrieve Thor from Earth.”

Stark gave a smile that had a thousand flavours of bitterness in it. “Oh yes,” he said. “Did you not know? Whatever you do for your best friend is automatically justified, up to and including getting civilians killed.”

There was a story there, clearly, but Loki was in no mood to try and get at it now. Judging by Peter’s expression, the boy knew about it to, so Loki made a mental note that should the need arise, he could get it out of the boy as well, then said: “Well, yes. Dead civilians. I sent the Destroyer for Thor’s friends. They could have, of course, given up peacefully and returned to Asgard, but you can be certain that idea has never crossed their minds. The Midgardian town paid the price.”

Stark gave him a dubious look. “I saw the videos from that attack, buddy,” he said. “It’s not like you came offering peace. The Destroyer blew up some SHIELD cars as soon as it arrived.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki confirmed calmly. “They were, of course, hostiles, but I do not deny that I went to destroy the town in a show of strength that was frankly completely unnecessary – the Warriors Three knew perfectly well the Destroyer was dangerous. But you see, I am not the one claiming to be a hero. They knew perfectly well why the Destroyer was there, and yet surrender never even occurred to them. As much as I hate to admit it, Thor was the only one who did try that.”

“And you didn’t accept.”

It wasn’t a question, but Loki answered anyway. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mawlid mubarak to anyone celebrating!
> 
> It was interesting to write a Loki who has a bit more distance from the events of Thor 1 and has had more of a chance to think about them than I am used to writing...


End file.
